Clichés Willing Victim
by My Little Big Blue Box
Summary: It was cliché that it was raining and that they were shouting at each other without an umbrella in sight but Emma needed this because if there was any fairytale that she deserved – any that she needed to be able to truly believe - then it was this and darn it, if she just so happens to want it with a pirate she secretly calls hers. ONESHOT.


**Clichés Willing Victim**

_right from the start__  
__you were a thief__  
__you stole my heart__  
__and i your willing victim__  
__i let you see the parts of me__  
__that weren't all that pretty__  
__and with every touch you fixed them_

_**just give me a reason**__ ; p__ink ft nate ruess_

It was cliché but Emma needed this.

It was cliché that it was raining and that they were shouting at each other without an umbrella in sight but Emma needed this because if there was any fairytale that she deserved – any that she needed to be able to truly believe - then it was this and darn it, if she just so happens to want it with a pirate she secretly calls hers.

She hadn't even known he was there until the diner door had rung shut, with that ridiculous coat he refused to give up with the rest of his pirate garb, kicking at his heels in his wake. She hadn't known that he had a jealous bone in his body until that moment although she should've with all the sniping and condescension he had flung in Neal's direction but she'd thought that the belittling was just Killian being Killian in the face of competition.

Anyway, it wasn't like he had any ownership on her – not that any man did, in fact – and they'd both silently agreed that commitment wasn't in them and now that seemed to be their problem.

"You can't just throw a tantrum because I'm having dinner with my son and his father!"

"Throw a _tantrum_?! You think this is a tantrum?!"

"It's what it looks like from where I'm standing!" Emma screamed against the pounding of the rain to the ground, "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"It doesn't," He huffed sharply, turning away and preparing to walk when she came to be in front of him, "Seriously, love. I'm done."

Emma heaved a heavy a breath and swallowed dry and thick. No matter how hard she tried to forget, it still hurt to remember him saying he was 'done' like he had before and she didn't care to admit to the momentary spike of panic that had jolted through her veins at the time. Boy, did he know how to make it sting like a bitch.

"You're not done. We're not done."

"Go back inside, Emma; your food will be getting cold," He grumbled.

He moved to walk on again but Emma moved with him, "_We're not done_," She repeated quietly, "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"I never said it mattered to me."

"Tell that to your face, you look like a kid who doesn't know how to share!" She argued, "Why does it matter?"

Killian's jaw twitched as his teeth ground before he spoke, "You know why."

"Actually... no," Emma replied, folding her arms defensively, "I don't know at all. And you know what? I don't think you do either. Or, you do and it scares the hell out of you."

"Just like it makes you run for the hills every time you wake up in my bed?" He retorted quickly, stating it like a scientific fact and it unsettled Emma because it was true.

"Why would I stay? You and I, we- You've never wanted me to stay."

"And who the hell told you that? Am I suppose to ask you to? Can't a man have the happy expectation that, if you are willing to stay the night that you will be there when he wakes up?" The rainwater bounced off of his lips as he spoke, a sad disappointment creasing across his forehead.

"No, he can't! Maybe I do need you to ask. Maybe I need to know that you want me!"

"Isn't it obvious?" He sighed heavily, "Don't you get it yet, sweetheart?"

"Do you?"

He looked away then and Emma knew he felt the exact same way.

He needed the exact same clarification. He needed to trust and to know that he was trusted. He needed a reason to smile and he needed to be somebody's reason to smile too. She also knew that now was not the time to be guarded. Now was the time for her to be frank, right now, in the middle of the pouring rain with the new moon hovering over them

"Killian," Emma stepped forward and her hands came to sit at the base of his neck, her thumbs slick with water as they rubbed against the pulse points beneath his ears, "Look at me."

It took a minute but at last he did and she smiled in appreciation, "We can only do this if we're honest with each other but-" She hesitated for just a millisecond, watching him for any kind of change, "-but I'm terrified that the moment I'm honest with you then you'll disappear."

She felt the tug of his hook latching to one of her belt loops as his hand rose to the side of her face, his hand in her sodden hair.

"You haven't gotten rid of me yet, darling. And I'm in way to deep-a-water to leave now," He smiled more brightly than she thought she'd ever seen him do so before and in the dark of the night it was stark.

Emma chuckled and for a moment, she let her head roll back and the rain to splash against her face before looking back and smiling at his somewhat awestruck and delirious expression that was just watching.

"I wasn't lying when I said you were beautiful, you know?"

"Yeah, right," She scoffed.

"Can't you ever take a compliment?"

"Nope."

"I'll just have to keep giving them until they sink in then, eh, _beautiful_?"

He smirked and without a thought she smirked right back, "You do that, Captain."

"Okay," Killian's hand moved from her temple to her forehead as he pushed away a few fallen wet tendrils, "Here's one, at least, I think it's one."

"Go on," And she almost knew what was coming.

"I think I love you, Emma."

She was glad she was wrong. Love wasn't something to mess around with. It was flimsy and dangerous and something so easy to lie about especially in a situation like this, fuelled by jealousy and doubt and standing in the cliché of the pouring rain. So yes, Emma was glad for the 'almost' because how could he already love her in such a few short angry – chaotic – weeks and how could she already love him? She thought she knew but she couldn't be sure and that was the point.

But most of all, Emma was glad for the almost because she knew, somewhere down deep – _way down deep _– inside her that this was right and one day 'I think' would become 'I definitely do'.

"I think I love you, too," She replied earnestly, "Don't abuse that."

"I won't if you won't, princess."

"Deal."

It was cliché but Emma needed this.

It was cliché that it had been raining and that they had been shouting at each other without an umbrella in sight, but Emma needed this because if there was any fairytale that she deserved then it was the one with the kiss in the pouring rain and the happily ever after.

And a kiss – oh, such a sweet but so intensely good that it made the rain fizz and burn as it battered against her skin – was what she had.

**A.N. Is that another Captain Swan fic? Why, yes, I think it is. Given that OUAT's basis is fairytale then I think it would be kind of criminal if there wasn't some kind of cliché in all aspect of the show whether it's relationships or the characters stories or whatever else you can think of, and so this is my cliché and there is always something beautiful about kissing in the rain.**

**Thoughts? I don't think this was as good as the first CS fic I did because I didn't think it through as much before I started writing it but it's not really my opinion that counts so if I can steal yours then that would be brilliant!**

**Peace and love, Jessica.**


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